


Ghost

by nocna_strzyga



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocna_strzyga/pseuds/nocna_strzyga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story starts when Bucky visits Smithsonian.<br/>In order to get his life back, he travels to the Middle Europe, where many of his missions took place. And where he finds a friend, that holds the secret to Bucky's memories, yet hints of his existence were erased along with everything else.</p><p>I try this story to be as much historically accurate, as possible. Many names, places or events mentioned ARE REAL.<br/>If I offend anyone through this fanfiction, I am sorry. I just couldn't stop myself from putting several of my headcanons here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghost

The Winter Soldier looked at his own photo at Smithsonian. He still couldn’t believe what he was reading.

_Oldest child of four_

Did he have a family? Certainly he had to be born at some point, but 1917 didn’t sound that reliable. Especially since on the very same display they put another date of his birth. On the other hand that might have been just a typo.

_An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom_

That sounded possible. But he still couldn’t remember any of it.

James needed more. Yes, _James_ , because he decided that calling himself “Winter Soldier” or whatever they used to describe him, wasn’t good enough. He was a human being, for God’s sake! Even if that other guy, _Steve_ , was simply playing on him, being called a proper name felt good. Felt _right_. And James was going to take his life back. It didn’t matter what it was.

There was only one problem.

He had only short, almost meaningless flashbacks. There was no way of putting them together, or setting in chronological order. Someone shooting. Someone being tortured. Someone dying. Darkness. Everything wrapped in some random mixture of different languages.

Through the glass he could see families with kids looking at bright displays of rusty weaponry and old clothes. If they only knew what was going inside the head of that man next to them…

‘Mom, that’s booooring’ a boy with red hair told a tall, tired looking woman with exactly the same shade of curls.

‘It’s not boring, just look here. Isn’t that the most badass gun you’ve ever seen?’ She pointed at one of the bigger rifles, clearly trying to interest her son.

But the kid just rolled his eyes and murmured something about Iron Man.

The woman breathed heavily and squat, to look the little ginger directly into his eyes.

‘Daddy comes at 3 p.m., we have half of an hour left. So you can be a nice boy and just see the rest of displays, instead of constantly playing videogames.’

_3 p.m._

It rang in James’s mind. But the way it sounded… As if he heard a male voice. Yes, he could remember, something. But that was just another flashback: a deep, male voice, with a tone suggesting that it was incredibly important, and… a strong Slavic accent. That wouldn’t be unexpected, especially since Bucky had a red, Soviet star on his left arm. Except he was absolutely sure, the man from James’s memory wasn’t Russian. Who was he, then?

There were so many pieces of a puzzle Barnes simply couldn’t fit.

It was pointless to linger in such public place any more. Bucky left, as he entered: through the back door.

Thanks to those few clouds in the sky the sun wasn’t dazzling, but it still was quite warm. A perfect day for a walk. And so, there were many people on the streets of Washington. Some of them in a hurry, some of them too busy with themselves to notice anyone around. The good thing was, that there was nowhere any photo of him around, so James could feel a little bit at ease.

‘Hey, dude, do ya have a lighter?’ suddenly a black skater in his late teens appeared out of nowhere. He had already stuck a cigarette between his teeth, yet was still searching his baggy pants.

‘No, sorry. I don’t smoke’ Bucky answered, trying to sound as calm, as possible. That kid wasn’t a Hydra’s spy, was he?

‘Ah, damn it! Nobody smokes these days!’ the skater went away to another passerby.

Was it true? That he, James, didn’t smoke? Bucky could tell, that his lungs remembered breathing lots of dense tobacco fumes. And that day, whoever it was telling him that 3 p.m. was important, was also smoking. They even shared smokes. Or they didn’t? No, that’s not right. Barnes had _multiple_ memories of that particular person. Yes, that must have been it. Once they shared, but that wasn’t the time from when he remembered the voice.

On his face appeared a smile. It was more like finding just two pieces of jigsaw puzzle that fit together, but it was something, a good start.

He could track down Hydra. But that was far too risky. And James had no intentions of getting caught by S.T.R.I.K.E. members. He had do lay low. On the other hand Barnes could just go meet Rogers.

‘…come to meet me at 3 p.m.…’ the Slavic voice rang again in Bucky’s head. He stopped in the middle of the street. This memory was unlike any other. It was clear. And even through James could remember the man was pointing at him with a Vis P35, the Slav’s intentions were sincere. Wait, what type of gun it was again? Barnes hid his eyes in a hand. He almost laughed at the fact he couldn’t remember what that man’s face looked like, but he could tell that pistol was a really good one. Way ahead of its time, some people said. It wasn’t some sloppy, Russian scrap job. Nor a precise, but ugly piece of German weaponry.

‘Are you alright, young man?’ an old, concerned lady touched his arm.

‘Yes… yes, of course’ Bucky answered too quickly to be considered polite, and went towards the park. It wasn’t wise to stop in the middle of a pavement like that. He started to _stand out_. Then again he was angry, that his sudden flow of memories was interrupted by a woman who called him “young man” while looking at least 20 years younger than himself. If James was to believe the Smithsonian display, that is.

Park was a good option. There were benches, where Barnes could quietly sit, and blend in. Even his probably absent gaze could be easily passed as him trying to relax or something.

The weather was still wonderful, although some more clouds formed making it a little bit colder. People were jogging and walking their dogs. Bucky could hear children’s playful yells from the distance. He breathed heavily and threw his head backwards.

_Vis P35_


	2. Borowy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read "Borowy" as "bauRAUvee" ;)

The Winter Soldier has just finished the mission. Everything went smooth. One clear shot from the neighboring roof through an open window and that was it. Nobody saw or heard anything. All he had to do next was just to pack up and disappear. He carefully disassembled the rifle and put it into the bag. Then picked it up, and turned around.

There stood another man in an unbuttoned, long, gray coat.

Before he even thought, the Winter Soldier took out a pistol, and shot. But it seemed that the other man also had his reflexes well trained, because he ducked all three bullets while running towards the Russian assassin, and kicked him in the liver. That hurt. Yet, there was no time to dwell on it. The man in a muzzle dropped the bag and grabbed the other one’s neck with his metal arm. But the man in a coat already had pushed a Vis P35 into his left shoulder, making sure the bullet made as much damage as possible. The Winter Soldier lost power over his artificial limb.

‘I just want to talk’ the man in gray said with a strong, Slavic accent, while still pointing the gun.

This wasn’t the end. Even if the man in black has lost his arm, he still held a pistol in another. And still had a knife in his belt. He ran while shooting the rest of his bullets. One of them hit the target in abdomen. Whoever was that man, he saw what the Winter Soldier had done. This wasn’t good.

Instead of dropping, the Slav caught the assassin and forced him onto the ground. Then pushed the barrel under the other man’s ribs. They were wrestling, but Vis P35 stayed where it was.

‘I really don’t want to kill you’ he pulled the trigger.

The Winter Soldier felt his left lung starting filling up with blood and coughed. But that didn’t stop him from taking out the knife and sticking it into the Slav’s side. Which didn’t do much of a harm, because the blade slid on the thick gray coat’s fabric.

‘Come on, the outcome is obvious’ he stood up, dripping blood, and stepped on the laying man’s only functioning hand.

The man in black wanted to scream from pain, but just grated his teeth instead.

‘Call me Borowy’ he wrenched the knife out of the bloody hand and helped the other man to a sitting position. Then pointed the gun again. ‘Look, I’m not interested in that communist scoundrel’s death. Actually the more they finish off themselves, the better for me’ it was clear that Borowy’s wound was serious by amount of blood spilling on the ground. But it somehow didn’t bother the Slav that much, because he took out a cigarette and lit it, breathing the fumes like it was the first catch of fresh air since the day before. Obviously he couldn’t do that without stopping targeting the assassin, but instincts told him that wasn’t a good moment to strike at all. And his instincts have always been right. ‘Sorry, I would have shared, but with your lung like this…’ Borowy took off the Winter Soldier’s muzzle to see the blood that was spilling from his mouth. Then stood up and pointed the Vis P35 again.

It was a good gun. Used, but well kept. When the Slav moved it looked more like an extension of his arm, than a weapon. Something told the assassin, that this man was trained heavily since childhood. There were hardly any chances of killing him. On the other hand he _just wanted to talk_. Then again, the Winter Soldier was an _Asset_ , not a chatting partner. His job was to finish his mission and disappear. If his owners didn’t want to hear his reports, he would have barely any use of the tongue at all.

‘We might not have that much time, because you started shooting like crazy’ Borowy rolled his eyes. ‘So I have to be quick. You probably don’t remember anything, but your real name is James Buchanan Barnes’ he waited few moments, as if he wanted to see how the message sunk in. nothing happened. ‘You were born in New York, USA in 1917. You were a national hero, fighting with captain America against Hydra.’

There it was. A flicker. Some images. But certainly nothing that would make any sense.

‘Я не знаю, о чем вы говорите [I don’t know what you’re talking about]’ the Winter Soldier coughed with blood again.

‘None of us is Russian, so please, don’t speak it. You’re American. English is your native language’ Borowy frowned. ‘You were captured, experimented on, and turned forcibly into a super soldier by an enemy.’

Pain. Lots of pain. The pain of losing an arm. The pain of bursting each and every cell in the body by freezing. The pain of frying the brain with series of electric discharges.

‘что ты от меня хочешь?! [What do you want from me?!]’ The Winter Soldier didn’t know how these words found their way out of him. But he was afraid. Not of the man pointing the gun to his head. Of something else. Of _someone_ else. And that made him unable to speak in the language he knew so well…

‘I want you to do only one thing, and it’s very, very important’ his voice turned much deeper. It rang in the Winter Soldier’s head. ‘If you ever release yourself and want to remember who you are, come to the Royal Castle at 3 p.m. I have an access to some files concerning you and how you were… changed. Any day. You can come tomorrow as well as in ten or in hundred years. I don’t care. I’ll be waiting. Just remember: come to me at 3 p.m., alone. Keep repeating the place and hour as long as you can. I’ll be praying for you’ Borowy took from under his shirt a wooden, worn out cross and smiled sincerely. Then he hid his pistol and moved swiftly towards the exit from the roof.

_Royal Castle at 3 p.m._

_Royal Castle at 3…_

_Royal Castle…_

_Royal…_

…


End file.
